


Three Stars Out of Five

by AstridMyrna



Series: Reylo Rendezvous [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Restaurant, F/M, Fluff, Food Porn, Romantic Comedy, Snark, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 01:23:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11818245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstridMyrna/pseuds/AstridMyrna
Summary: Ben Solo is the owner of The Little Ren, a five-star restaurant that just received its first three-star review from a food blogger only known as Rey. When Rey returns to his restaurant to write a follow-up review, he's determined to get an answer for the average score he received in the first place.





	1. First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> Based off the tumblr prompt from underrated-reylo:  
> Ben Solo is a rich asshole who owns a restaurant and he is very critically acclaimed chef. Rey is a food critic that he becomes fascinated with after she gives him a three star review, after everyone else had given him five star reviews. He needs to know why… And he won’t stop bothering her about it.

 Ben Solo started his mornings at the Coffee Caravan with a double expresso and a quick search of any new reviews of his restaurant on his tablet. After the explosion of reviews when he first opened his restaurant, new reviews were few and far between. Every review, however, complimented the ambience, adored his staff, raved over the food, and gave him five stars or forks or spoons out of five.

His perfect score didn’t help ease the anxiety of being alerted to a new review posted on the blog _Too Many Forks_ by Rey _._ He’d seen the blog pop up before during his web surfing, but never read it until today. His heart raced and he held his breath when he clicked on the review:

_Too Many Forks First Impressions: The Little Ren_

_This weekend I finally caved and went to a restaurant I’ve been hearing about all over town: The Little Ren. The Little Ren is a farm-to-table restaurant that prides itself on cooking with food bought locally or grown in the owner’s garden. I ordered the zucchini soup, the house special (homemade spaghetti and heirloom tomato sauce), and a slice of lemon tart. Everything tasted as expected._

_Three Stars out of Five_

_Price: $$_

He read and reread the paltry review until reality finally set in. Three stars. Three stars out of _five_. What the hell did she mean by, “Everything tasted as expected”? He skimmed through her other reviews which were far longer and far more detailed than the one she gave for his restaurant. He opened his email and was half way finished writing her to demand what exactly went wrong with her meal when he closed the entire thing. A knee-jerk response to a bad review would only sully his restaurant’s reputation even more.

From skimming through her blog, he learned that she did write follow-up reviews. Her profile picture was useless—just a picture of a woman in a flowy blouse hiding her face with a floppy, tan sunhat. He searched to see if she reviewed Coffee Caravan. Sure enough, she had and rated them five out of five. The coffee house was a cozy little hole in the wall filled with a motley assortment of old loveseats, leather chairs, and end tables, but there a rusty suit of armor wearing a beach hat in the corner and the art tacked on the walls looked like something out of a dumpster dive. The music that drifted from the sound system was either calming smooth jazz or guitar covers of Disney songs or heavy Swedish metal or Selena. There was no rhyme or reason that Ben could find, except “pick up anything and everything that can be useful.”

“Aie, hijo de puta,” Cassian Andor grumbled as he banged against the K-2SO expresso machine he had recently restored.

“Is that the new wi-fi password?” Jyn Erso quipped as she cashed out the register.

The two were a husband and wife duo that had opened the coffee house only a month after Ben had opened The Little Ren. Even though they both were a bit reserved and weren’t much for chit-chat around their customers, they had developed a loyal following that Ben couldn’t grasp. Their coffee and pastries were good, but not _that_ good.

The K-2SO banged and whined until it finally released a shot of expresso into the thumb-sized glass. As Cassian prepared the drink, Ben strode up to the cash register with his empty cup.

“Ready for another or is that all today?” Jyn asked.

“No more for me today, but I was wondering if you’ve seen this food critic in here before.” Ben said as he showed the blog to her. “I know it’s just a picture of a hat, but it’s all I have to go on for right now.”

“She’s one of the regulars. You’ve seen her,” she said with a slow grin.

“I have? What does she look like? Is she here?”

“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to say, especially since she hasn’t written a follow-up review for your restaurant.”

The tips of Ben’s ears burned. He looked over Jyn’s shoulder and asked, “¿Sabes quién es?”

Jyn rolled her eyes but Cassian snorted a laugh as he cleaned the milk steamer. “You’re not getting me in trouble because you’re sore about your review.”

Ben turned away from them both in a huff, but he stopped to scan the coffee house. There were a couple of mothers with their sniveling toddlers, an old man deep in his newspaper, and a woman hunched over her laptop and a half-empty mug of coffee in her hand. He slowly walked to the door and tried to get a good look at her: shoulder-length dark brown hair, freckles on a pale oval face, dark purple peasant top—she looked up and he nearly broke through the glass as he rushed out the front door.

A block and a half later, he finally slowed down to a stroll. Now that he knew what she looked like, did she know who he was? Of course she must have, his damn face was plastered all over numerous reviews of his restaurant as well as his website. He couldn’t just offer to buy her coffee and ask about what was wrong with his food.

His fingers tugged at the edges of his goatee as he thought. She would be in his restaurant again, and he could easily get her order. He would make everything and cordially ask how her meal tasted; it wasn’t an uncommon thing for a head chef to ask. He smiled at the thought of asking her if everything “tasted as expected.” She would know that her cover was blown, but she’d go into more detail about that three-star review while she ate a five-star meal.

One way or another, he’d get his answers.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FINALLY FIGURED OUT HOW TO EMBED PICTURES HERE!
> 
> Aesthetic provided by underrated-relyo on tumblr. Chapter 2 is coming out sometime tonight (sorry guys I was moving and starting grad school!)


	2. Appetizers

“So she’s a skinny white girl with shoulder length brown hair, freckles, and wears peasant tops and tacky sunhats,” Phasma, maître d’ of The Little Ren, said in her usual matter-of-fact tone.

The Little Ren’s manager Hux smirked as he flipped through his phone. Ben had called them both in his office to explain the situation and lay out his plan of impressing Rey. He had left out running into the door and the fact that he wasn’t one hundred percent positive if the girl in the Coffee Caravan was Rey.

“You think that the risk to our reputation is funny, Hux?” Ben demanded.

Hux snapped his phone shut. “I read the review, Solo, and I think you’re making a mountain out of a molehill. It’s on a free wordpress blog, for Christ’s sake. She has no clout to be a serious threat to our restaurant. I’m sure when she comes back in she’ll love the food and correct her review.”

“Well, I want to absolute _certain_ that she’ll love the food. I mean, she gave the Coffee Caravan five stars for both reviews. And you know that Nigerian-Guatemalan-Vietnamese fusion place a couple of blocks down? Five stars for both reviews!”

Phasma shrugged. “The food is pretty good.”

“And you have to admit, serving only one type of meal and changing it daily is a pretty good gimmick. Keeps things fresh, exciting,” Hux pointed out.

Ben pushed his tablet to the edge of the desk. “She gave In-N-Out five stars. _Both times_.”

“So what you’re telling me is that she has no clout _and_ no taste,” Hux said with smug grin on his face that wilted under Ben’s glare. “Regardless, I’ll keep an eye out for her.”

“So will I, and I’ll alert the staff,” said Phasma.

Ben dismissed them both and he headed off to the kitchen to check on food deliveries and oversee lunch preparations. Even though he trusted Phasma and Hux to keep an eye out for the food critic, he often walked by the serving hatch to get a glimpse of the diners. The dining space was small, but the wall-length windows helped to open the place up with natural light. Ben had even invested in a large sky light that made the simple iron chandeliers useless until evening. Hanging from the ceiling in glass baubles holding tiny succulent terrariums he had purchased from Chirrut & Baze’s Nursery on 5th street. The tables and chairs he was particularly proud of; he and his father had built them out of reclaimed wood the summer before the restaurant opened, when they were still talking to each other.

She didn’t show up that day. Or the next. Or the next next. Two weeks passed where she didn’t even walk by his restaurant, but she was at the Coffee Caravan every few days. He had caught glimpses of her editing her blog, so he knew for sure that she was the food critic he had been searching for her. He’d seen her face enough times to be able to recognize it from a distance now.

Finally, after a couple of false alarms from the waiters, Ben recognized Rey as she came in. He took Phasma aside and pointed her out. Within minutes he finally had the ticket he had been waiting so long for:

            TABLE 9:

  * ICE TEA, BLACK
  * SEASONAL GREENS SALAD, SIDE DRESSING



“That’s it?” Ben demanded, the ticket crumpling in his hand.

Phasma gave him a sympathetic look but there was nothing either of them could do. If she wanted a seasonal greens salad, he would make her the best damn seasonal greens salad she ever tasted. Luckily the cucumbers, onions, arugula, and romaine lettuce he had picked from the roof top garden that morning were now thoroughly chilled and ready to be chopped, diced, and tossed in a big metal bowl. He ran up to the roof top garden a picked a couple of ripe heirloom tomatoes, still warm from the afternoon sun. These he chopped and added to the salad, and nearly ruined the whole thing when he grabbed the huckleberry balsamic vinegar dressing and held it over the greens.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath and nearly broke the glass jar when he slammed it on the counter.

Thee other chefs glanced at him nervously but said nothing as he nearly knocked over the stack of dressing cups just to pick up one. He filled the cup, tossed the dry salad, and plated it as neatly as he could before putting it on the serving hatch to be whisked away by a waiter. He watched his order weave its way around other diners, waiters, and tables until it finally reached her, sitting right next to one of the windows. When the waiter left, she picked up the dressing cup, sniffed it, then stuck her fork in it to taste it. She liked it well enough to pour it on the salad and sloppily mix her salad. A couple of pieces of romaine fell on the table, but she ate them anyway.

Unable to take anymore, Ben smoothed down his white apron and headed out into the dining room. She had finished about a quarter of her salad when he reached her table.

“Good afternoon, miss,” he said. “My name is Ben Solo, I’m the head chef and owner of The Little Ren.”

Rey looked up at him with surprise, but that quickly changed to curiousness.

“Haven’t I seen you before at the Coffee Caravan?” she asked in a light British accent.

“Probably. I have an unhealthy caffeine addiction so I’m there every morning.”

“Likewise,” she chuckled.

Now was the time to spring his trap.

“Is everything _tasting as expected_ , miss?”

Her laughter faded, but she still smiled. Before taking a sip of tea, she said, “Well, I expected a salad and received the salad I asked for, so yes.”

Ben didn’t know what to say after that. He had planned for her to be the one who was flustered that her cover was blown, not calmly sipping tea and daring him to go on with her eyes.

“Everything on your plate was grown from our rooftop garden, so it’s the freshest salad you’ll find in the area,” Ben said, his collar growing uncomfortably hot.

“That’s nice.”

Shit.

This wasn’t going at all how it played in his head at all. She was supposed to be stuttering out excuses for giving him three out of five stars, but instead she calmly sipped her tea and waited for an answer out of him like a mother expecting an explanation for a trail of muddy footprints in the house.

Fuck.

“Enjoy your meal,” he said before escaping from her gaze as quickly as he could without running.

He burst through the kitchen and up into the rooftop garden. He sat on the warm stone of one of the benches between the radishes and the beets, his head in his hands and at a loss of what to do next. Footsteps approached and he sat very still, hoping it was just a chef coming to collect some tomatoes.

“You okay?” Phasma said.

“I’m an idiot.”

Phasma sighed and tapped her foot. When neither said anything more, she headed back downstairs to let Ben wallow in misery.

*

“Where’s Jyn?” Ben asked Cassian when he went up to order his double expresso the morning after he embarrassed himself in his own restaurant.

“Sick. You getting your usual?” he answered curtly.

“Yes and…you know the food critic, Rey? If she comes in here, make sure her order’s taken care of, and keep the change,” he said as he slipped a twenty.

“I mean, I’ll take your money, but I don’t know how she’ll feel about a bribe.”

“It’s not a bribe. It’s an apology.” He pursed his lips for a moment. “She’ll probably see it as a bribe, so just don’t tell her who paid for her who paid her tab.”

“Tu secreto ésta a salvo conmigo.”

“Gracias.”

Ben took his usual seat by the suit of armor wearing the beach comb hat, opened his tablet and deleted the saved tab with Rey’s food blog on it. By the time his expresso came and he was in the middle of researching for adding a couple of new fall seasonal items and had completely forgotten about Rey—until she walked right up to him with a coffee and bagel in hand.

“I believe these are yours,” she said.

He leaned over to glare at Cassian, who was conveniently tinkering with the K-2SO machine.

“He didn’t have to tell me it was you. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who of the three people in here paid for my tab,” Rey continued as she set down her food. “I may not be a big food critic, but I don’t appreciate having my cover blown and then bribed.”

“I only bought it because I wanted to apologize for having blown your cover, not to bribe you—”

“If you wanted to do that, why didn’t you wait until after I wrote your follow-up review?”

“You’re still going to write it?” he asked, incredulous.

“Of course I’m still going to write it, only now I have to add a disclaimer saying that the owner found me out.”

“So this means that you’ll be coming back to The Little Ren?”

She ran her hands over her face. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I know, that’s why I bought the coffee. I honestly didn’t think you’d come back after I confronted you. It was unprofessional of me. I understand that food critics use their anonymity so they can receive the same experience that the general public receives, and for some reason that day we gave you a three star first impression. I'm sorry."

She eyed him for a moment, but picked up the coffee cup and took a sip.

“Apology accepted, Mr. Solo.”

“Thank you.” Ben said, and he couldn’t resist letting go of this new tendril of hope. “Oh, but Miss…?”

“Just Rey is fine.”

“Rey, in a few weeks I’ll be having a tasting dinner of The Little Ren’s fall menu. It’s an exclusive affair with some of the biggest local critics around, and I’d love for you to join us.”

She huffed and scowled, but her eyes sparkled with excitement, curiosity, interest? This could possibly be her first invite to an exclusive tasting dinner.

“Count me in, Mr. Solo. Email me the time and date when you get a chance. My contact is on my blog,” she said before whisking her breakfast away to her table at the opposite side of the café.

Stunned that his attempt at charm actually worked, he downed the rest of his expresso to shock his mind to get back to work. When she did come to the dinner, he could gently press her for more specifics on what made his food “taste as expected” and exactly what earned him that three-star review, then he could finally put this whole situation behind him and focus on the future of his restaurant. He cracked his knuckles and dug deep into his research. He had a stellar menu that would impress Rey to create.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love In-N-Out but let's be real, Ben and Hux would totally be those guys that's like, "In-N-Out is so overrated. What about Five Guys or Whataburger or [Insert Artisanal Craft Burger Here]?" Completely missing the goddamn point, I say.
> 
> Also I will forever write Ben Solo/Kylo Ren as a bit of a creep who learns to not be such a fucking creep by the end of it. 
> 
> Also also I'm adding an extra chapter because of course I have to make things more complicated for myself. Will do my best to update next week. Thanks for reading and for your comments!


	3. Main Course

Ben jiggled the handle of the Coffee Caravan’s door even though the CLOSED sign hung inside and a neatly written note taped above it that read:

The Coffee Caravan will be closed

until further notice 

due to family emergency.

Thank you for your

thoughts and prayers.

C and J

It wouldn’t have surprised him if that “family emergency” was related to Jyn in some way. She had been coming to cashier at café for the last couple of weeks, but she sat on a stool and plodded her fingers on the register. For the last couple of days it was just Cassian running the place. Now, on the day of the tasting dinner, they just had to be closed.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, headed to his restaurant early, locked himself in his office, and scrolled through Rey’s blog on his tablet. She hadn’t updated in a week and a half, but she had been answering comments. Many of the responses were thanks for reading her work, others were answers to specific questions about the experience, but there was one response to her review that made him stop:

_Greetings,_

_I regret to hear that you did not enjoy your experience at Club 66. We aim to give each patron an unforgettable and illuminating experience at our exclusive restaurant. However, we checked with our staff about the night you came to dine with us, and no problems had arisen. After a bit of research into your blog, we suspect that your palette may not be able to discern the many nuances of our cuisine. Since you clearly never capable to give our “over-priced swamp water” a fair critique and to prevent further embarrassment to yourself, we ask that you take this review down._

_Thank you,_

_Club 66_

Shit, at least he had the presence of mind to privately email Rey his knee-jerk reaction to a bad review. He scrolled down to read Rey’s response and barked out a laugh:

_I’ve edited the review to tell my readers to ask for hair on the side of their over-priced swamp water soup. Thank you for reminding me!_

_Rey : )_

It was at that moment when his email pinged, and it turned out to be Rey.

_RE: TLR Tasting Dinner Details_

_I forgot to ask, what’s the dress code for this?_

_Rey : )_

_RE:RE: TLR Tasting Dinner Details_

_Cocktail attire_

_Ben Solo_

He hit send and smacked the back button but it was too late. She almost immediately pinged back.

_Cocktail? Didn’t realize it was that fancy. ;)_

_Rey_

_It’s another word for semi-formal._

He hit send again and turned his tablet over. It took him ten minutes to realize that he sounded like an absolute ass. He checked his email and saw that she didn’t respond. He drafted another email to apologize but ended up trashing it. There were bigger things to worry about than an internet faux-pas. She would understand.

After checking his email once more, he turned off his tablet and got to work prepping for the dinner that night.

*

Once the restaurant closed early, the wood and glass was scrubbed until they shone under the candle light of the iron chandeliers. Tables were put together to form one long one, a centerpiece of blooming red or yellow cactus flowers at each table. Hux welcomed each guest before introducing them to Ben, who then handed them off to Phasma to get their alcoholic needs taken care of. He eyed his watch as the last of the critics trickled in, but there was no sign of Rey. His last email must have come off meaner than he thought. Hux eyed him, clearly holding back a smug grin.

The door opened and Rey peeked her head inside.

“I hope I’m not late,” she said as she entered.

Just one look at her made Ben feel underdressed in his black vest, gray shirt and tie. She wore a white brocade with dark red, pale pink, and champagne flower prints blooming from the top of the banded neck down to the brim of the dress that ended just above her knees. When she handed Hux her glittery gold shawl, she revealed that the dress was backless as well as sleeveless. Her dark brown hair swooped down in ringlets from over the top of her right eye to the base of her neck.

“Mr. Solo, may I introduce to you Ms…er…Rey,” Hux said, and mouthed _staring_ from behind her.

He knew he was staring because he didn’t care who else was in the room as long as she was standing in front of him.

“We’ve met before,” Rey said with a sweet smile.

“Thank you for coming to our little get together. Let me take you to our head waiter Phasma to get your drink started and introduce you to the other critics.”

He offered his arm and she took it and he felt like he had grown wings that wanted to carry him off into the heavens. Instead he remained grounded, introducing her to the big time critics like Mon Mothma of _Saveur_ and Maz Kanata of _Los Angeles Magazine_. Her whole face blushed as she bent down to greet Maz.

“Oh, I love your work. They’re so witty and detailed and I’ve read them with my parents ever since I was a kid,” Rey said with the biggest smile on her face and clutching her chest as if to keep her heart from popping out.

“And who do you write for, dear?” Maz asked.

“I, well, it’s only a personal blog. And it’s a hobby. I work full time as a mechanic and I ended up eating out a lot and I said to myself ‘well, since I eat out a lot and I want to do something else than watch the tele when I get home, I may as well write reviews for it’ and I started a wordpress blog since they’re free and oh my god I’m a rambling mess, I’m so sorry.”

Maz laughed and gently patted her hand. “We all have to start somewhere, dear. And even if food critique remains a hobby for you, I hope you have as much fun as you can with it.”

Even after they parted, Rey was still bubbling over with excitement until she looked up at Ben’s grinning face.

“She’s right, you know. You have to start from somewhere,” Ben said.

“And where did you start, Mr. Solo?”

“Cleaning up wood shavings at my father’s workshop, selling vacuum cleaners while I went to MIT, engineering at a secret government facility I can’t talk about, climbing up the restaurant food chain after I gave everything up to move to Paris and study at Le Cordon Bleu, and came back home to open up The Little Ren.”

She nodded and took a sip of her white wine.

“It sounds like you’ve had a life of many beginnings, Mr. Solo.”

“That’s pretty much it in a nutshell. And what about you, Rey?”

“Not nearly as exciting, I assure you.”

Dinner began shortly after that. All the critics sat around the table and waited eagerly as each sample-sized dish was delivered. The meal started off humbly enough with a teacup-sized bowl of leek and mushroom soup along with a plate of arugula and candied pear salad with a light pear vinaigrette, but following that were figs wrapped in sizzling bacon and thinly sliced, cauliflower florets roasted in cashew butter, plump and sizzling sausages cradled in haystacks of spaghetti squash, baked pumpkin and sweet potato mash, and whole acorn squash stuffed with peppers and ground pork. Wines and golden ales and cold, crisp cider flowed long into the night, which plied early favorable reviews from the critics.

Well, most of them. Only Rey remained silently contemplating her food, although her cheeks were glowing pink from alternating between white wine and cider.

They rounded out the end of the meal with a slice of apple pie from apples that he picked himself at an apple farm an hour away and house made vanilla ice cream. All too soon the plates and glasses were being picked up to be washed and his guests were grabbing their coats and shawls.

“Thank you again for inviting me, it was quite a lot of fun,” Rey said, last one to enter and ultimately the last critic to leave.

“Rey, would you like a tour of our rooftop garden?” he blurted out.

By the front door, Phasma clasped a hand over her mouth and Hux looked like he had swallowed an entire container of salt. Rey, however, considered him for a minute.

“Can I take pictures for the blog?” she asked.

“Of course. Please, follow me.”

She thudded behind his softer steps through the kitchen, up the stair case, and on to the roof. Even with the light pollution hiding the stars with their golden fog, the full moon still shone brightly. There was a bite to the air that made Rey pull her shimmery shawl tighter to around her shoulders, her camera in her free hand. He walked her down the rows of cages growing tomatoes, peas, and beans; he paused and let her take a whiff of the pungent herb garden that overflowed the planter boxes along the edges of the roof top, then showed off the trellis where the restaurant was experimenting with growing squash vertically.

“Can you stand over there?” she said.

“This good?” he said as he meandered to the wire trellis overflowing with vines and spaghetti squash supported by slings of flexible mesh.

“Scnitchsnoozle.”

“What?” he chuckled.

“Perfect. I think that came out all right,” she said as she showed him a picture of him smiling by the squash and not looking like a reanimated wax figure.

“More than all right. You really are a woman of many talents. Now, for the rest of the tour,” he turned to the vertical wall of different varieties of lettuce. “Actually, that was it.”

“Impressive. Think you’ll be bringing in chickens and cows next?”

“The local farmers we’ve partnered with wouldn’t be too happy with us if we did that.”

“I’ll have to note that for my review.”

“Right.”

She slipped her phone in the pocket of her dress and hid both hands in her shawl. He dug his hands into his pockets and opened his mouth to say something to break the awkward silence, but breathed in the scent of earth and rosemary. Rey meandered to the rooftop half-wall and touched the lamb-soft sage.

“Is this the life of a famous food critic? I should give three stars out more often if it means getting exclusive tasting dinners and private garden tours.”

He joined her at the herb garden, broke a piece of mint and offered it to her.

 “What did you think of tonight’s menu, though?”

She rolled her eyes but took the mint and chewed on one of its leaves. “I’m drunk, not loose-lipped. Shit, I drove here.”

“I can call a cab.”

“That’s probably a good idea. No, let me do it,” she said the moment he took out his phone.

In the time it took her to call a cab, Ben had fetched a couple of tall wood stools for them to sit on.

“Thank you,” she said as she sat on hers. “They’ll be here in twenty or thirty minutes. Busy night. Do you ever host parties here? The view is lovely.”

“No, I prefer keeping this part of the restaurant private. I mean, the other kitchen staff come up here if they need ingredients, of course. But if I need time to myself…it’s a nice place to be.”

“Well, thank you for sharing it with me.”

Her shawl slipped down her bare arms and he looked down at his hands hanging over his knees. The tips of his shoe and hers were just inches apart.

“You said you were a mechanic?”

“Yes. Need an oil change?” she chuckled.

“No. I was thinking of our conversation earlier, about having a life of new beginnings, and I was curious about yours.”

“Parents moved a lot because they were in the military, but I wanted something stable. Went to trade school, studied how to be a mechanic, and it took a couple of places before I found the one near here. I’ve worked there for a couple of years now and things are looking pretty good so far. Like I said, nothing exciting. Actually, this dinner has been the most exciting thing to happen to me in a long time.” She paused to fold her shawl on her lap. “Your food is good, though.”

“Just ‘expected’,” he said, finally meeting her eyes.

“Being predictable isn’t necessarily a bad thing, it’s just not what _I_ always care for. What I’m doing isn’t an exact science, Ben. I quite literally go with my gut.”

“Your gut is making me work twice as hard in the kitchen nowadays.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. I’ve been getting a little too comfortable with all the praise.”

“Don’t pat yourself on the back too hard now." She rubbed her face with both hands. "Eh, my review was too vague anyway. The follow up and tasting review will be more specific.”

“The question is if you’ll remember the tasting by tomorrow morning.”

She laughed hard at that. “I’ll have you know that—”

They were interrupted by the buzz of Rey’s phone. The cab was there and waiting for her. She scowled at her phone when she hung up.

“Fun’s over,” she sighed, pulling the shawl over her shoulders again.

“All good things…” Ben mumbled before standing up and escorting Rey down into the cleaned kitchens.

He checked his watch: exactly midnight, and the dinner had ended around ten. Hux and Phasma were still there, sitting at one of the tables and going over figures. They barely gave Ben and Rey a glance as they passed through. Ben opened the back door for her and helped her as she wobbled inside.

“Thank you for the dinner, Ben. The follow up review will be up sometime later this week,” she said.

Tired lines grew under her eyes and her make up was faded and the curls sagged and he wanted to kiss her good night but no, no he couldn’t. He would wreck whatever magic spell had been cast on this night if he did that, so instead he held the door handle so tightly that the cold metal bit into his hands.

“I look forward to it. Have a good evening, Rey.”

“Good night.”

He closed the door and miraculously didn’t slam it. After watching the cab drive off, he strolled back into The Little Ren. He joined Hux and Phasma at the table, his head resting on his folded arms.

“So, did Rey tell you why we received three stars out of five?” Phasma asked before finishing off her beer.

“She did.”

Hux looked up from the receipts. “And?”

“And you were right, Hux. I was making a mountain out of a molehill when it came to that review. The review wasn’t important at all.”

No, Ben had found something much more important that night than a review, and all the pestering from his coworkers wouldn’t ever get him to share his discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took a little longer but it's the longest chapter of this story. Aiming to have the final chapter done sometime by the end of this week.


	4. Coffee and...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter five, "Dessert," is coming out tomorrow morning. I just wanted to make it its own special chapter.

Ben sat on his black leather couch with his phone in his hand, the murky morning light coming in from the wall-length window and lighting up his minimalist living room of his apartment. The scent of the carpet shampoo used to clean his brilliant white carpet tingled in his nose. The fuchsia orchid on his square glass coffee table was in full bloom; he had picked it up yesterday at the market when it turned out that the Coffee Caravan was still closed.

He looked up at the painting he had just hung up on the wall earlier in the week: a mushy cabin sitting next to a wobbly creek in the middle of a forest of blurry trees that poked at a baby pink sky. His mother had painted it and given it to him for a Christmas present several years ago after binge-watching Bob Ross videos on Youtube. He only hung it up on the gray wall when his parents came over, then wrapped it in plastic and hid it in his closet after they left.

But then the dinner with Rey happened.

The next day, a Monday, he took it out of his closet and carefully cleaned it before hanging it up. The following Friday he bought the orchid. Rey hadn’t emailed him at all, and with the coffee house closed he hadn’t seen her either. In the middle of the night he looked up local mechanic shops to see if he could find the one that Rey worked at, just to casually walk by and say, “Oh, I was in the neighborhood and…” And what? She would think that he was stalking her for a review that she hadn’t put up yet, even though it was the end of the week. He could just email to meet up, but again, it all boiled down to that damn review he had refused to let go of earlier.

He unlocked his phone, dialed the number, and put it on speaker. It rang twice before Leia answered, “Hello?”

“Hey Mom.”

“What happened?” she demanded.

He puffed out a short sigh. “Nothing happened, I just felt like calling and since it’s Saturday I figured you all would be home. Is Dad there?”

“Oh yes, he’s out there fiddling with that hunk of garbage he calls a car.”

“Can I…speak to him?”

“Ok, what the hell happened?”

“Nothing. Happened. I just need to ask him something.”

Grainy silence, followed by an irritated sigh.

“Fine, give me a minute. Han…Han, it’s Ben on the phone for you. He says he wants to ask you something. I don’t know—ask him yourself.”

“Ben,” Han said in a voice that had grown gruffer since they last spoke.

“Dad,” Ben said through gritted teeth.

“Your mom said you had something to ask me.”

“I do.”

Ben swallowed and tried to find the words, but his problem was so childish, the answer so obvious. Why had he called his father in the first place? What had he hoped to learn?

“Were you planning on telling me some time this century?” his father said.

“It’s difficult to explain.”

“Difficult how?”

That fucking sarcasm. Ben closed his eyes, his fingers squeezing the phone tight enough for the plastic to burn between his knuckles.

“I like someone,” he heard himself say, and the rest of his pathetic tale came fumbling out of his mouth.

He didn’t know if his father could understand half of what he mumbled out. When he had finally finished, he opened his eyes and let the phone fall on the cushion next to him, listening to Han grunt and chew on his thoughts.

“Okay now look, here’s what you do: you wait for the review to come up, then give it a couple of days before you ask her out to coffee or brunch or whatever you do nowadays,” his father rattled off as if they were both talking in a crowded bar and they were on their second round of drinks. “If she takes you up on it, then things are looking pretty good. If not, better to cut your losses sooner than later. Wait for the right moment to act, don’t go rushing in with your head up your ass.”

Ben snorted a laugh. “Thanks, Dad.”

“I’m being serious.”

“I am too.” He cleared his throat. “Are you and Mom doing anything for Labor Day?”

“Don’t think so, no.”

“Good, because I was thinking of coming up.”

“Oh,” Han said, sounding genuinely surprised. “Your mother will like that. I can grill some hot dogs and hamburgers, you can bring the condiments.”

“Sounds good.”

“Yeah. It was good hearing from you, Ben.”

“You too, Dad.”

He said his goodbyes to Leia before hanging up and soaked in the silence that his soundproof insulated walls allowed him. His eyes stung and wiping them only made the stinging worse, so he went into the bathroom to splash cold water on his face.

The last argument he had with his father was just after New Year’s, another one of his “suggestions” for the restaurant that was already winning the hearts and stomachs of a couple of big critics. He forgot what the suggestion even was, but he remembered telling his father no, which sparked a screaming match that lasted for hours and that drudged up every last little sin they had committed against the other since Ben’s high school days. Leia came in to stop them, reminding them of how they built the tables and chairs for the restaurant together.

“It wasn’t my fucking idea,” Ben snapped at Leia.

Han grappled him by the shoulder. “Don’t you dare yell at your mother.”

“Only you can, right?” Ben jerked away from Han’s grip.

 He left straight after that, his father throwing one last barb he refused to hear. His mother left him voice mails and stopped by his apartment and restaurant for weeks before she finally gave up. Or maybe she was waiting for him to come back. She had a way of knowing things. Either way, he had given up on going through the stress of talking to them again.

Now he strolled back into the living room to ruminate over his father’s advice while looking at his mother’s painting. 

He rubbed his face, his eyes no longer stinging but his eyelids feeling heavy against his cheekbones. It was a long shot, but he decided to see if maybe the Coffee Caravan was open that day. After changing out of his gray pajamas and into a well-worn pair of black jeans and midnight blue sweater he headed out to the coffee house. He sighed at the sight of the familiar note card on the window, but when he approached the door, he discovered that a new message had replaced the old one:

We are now

¡OPEN!

Thank you for your

thoughts and prayers

C and J

Ben flung the door open before stepping inside, catching the attention of the fuller-than-usual coffee house. He strode up to the counter, where Jyn sat on the opposite side in a loose brown t-shirt and a black apron with a plain “Coffee Caravan” embroidered in a red arch on the front. Cassian wore a matching apron over his faded camo shirt, hunched over and swearing in Spanish at the same K-2SO expresso machine.

 “Glad to see you two back,” Ben said loud enough for Cassian to acknowledge him with a nod.

“Thanks, Ben. The usual?” Jyn asked.

“I’m in the mood for something different. What do you suggest?”

“The five-dollar surprise,” Cassian said.

Ben chuckled and handed Jyn a five before hanging out by bar for his drink, hearing every “pinche cabron” and “hijo de puta” as he fought with the machine to spew out three shots of expresso. Jyn cocked an eyebrow at him, and Cassian said something so low and quick that Ben wasn’t sure if it was in either Spanish or English.

She grinned at him. “I’m only teasing, I don’t really care about it.”

“You care, and I’m glad that you do,” Cassian said with a warmth Ben was unfamiliar with. “I’ll be better about it.”

Cassian turned back to Ben’s drink, wearing a small smile that brightened the man’s weathered face. Ben found himself smiling too; their affection for each other was surprisingly contagious as the group of mothers by window burst out in laughter and pair of elderly gentlemen toasted with their half-full coffee cups and a baby who had been crying suddenly stopped the moment his teenaged brother bounced him on his knee. Jyn stepped off her stool and poured a fresh cup of coffee to hand to an old woman elbow-deep in her newspaper, who then cooed something sweet at her. That kind of rapport with the customers he left to Hux and Phasma, but maybe it was time for him to step out of the kitchen a little more often and get to know the people who came to eat his food.

“Five-dollar surprise,” Cassian announced as he handed the paper coffee cup.

“It’s cold,” Ben said, then tasted it. “And sweet.”

“Surprise,” Cassian said, but he nodded his head to the front door.

Rey had entered and walked straight to the barista counter without even acknowledging Ben. He stood breathless and unable to move an inch.

“I see we’re back in business,” Rey told Jyn in her usual cheery tone. “Everything all right, I hope?”

“Yes, thank you. I had been suffering severe morning sickness and had to be hospitalized for a time.”

Ben turned to Cassian, who was suddenly busy cleaning the milk steamer.

“That’s terrible! But wait, that means you’re…?” Rey said.

“Twelve weeks along.”

“Oh, congratulations!”

Ben scurried to find a table before Rey could see him. He found a wobbly one right next to the door and under the name of the coffeehouse painted on the large window. She wore a white, billowy top with belled sleeves that hid her hands and black leggings. Rey chatted with Jyn long enough for Cassian to bring her coffee and bagel to her on the front counter. They talked a little while longer, and Rey put a dollar in the tip jar, and Ben silently cursed himself for not doing the same. Maybe hide a hundred in a one dollar bill and make up for all the times he never gave a thought of leaving a tip, despite how often he came here.

“Ben—Mr. Solo, it’s good to see you,” Rey said as she approached his table with coffee and bagged bagel in hand.

“Ben is just fine,” he managed to say with a tongue that suddenly went papery.

“I’ll be posting up the review today. Sorry it took so long.”

“No, no. Don’t worry about it. It was nice to see you, Rey.”

“You too.”

He had expected her to find a table, but she wasn’t heading for a table, she opened the door and all of the sound, sane advice his father had given him was chucked out. He lunged out of his seat and bolted to her.

“Wait, Rey—” he said, and she slammed the door in his face.

He clutched his throbbing face as he staggered backwards, lights dancing before his eyes.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry. Are you all right?” he heard Rey shriek from far away.

“It’s fine, nothing’s bleeding. I’m fine.”

“Are you okay?” Jyn said from behind. “We’ve got a first aid kit.”

“No, no thank you—”

“Do you need ice? We’ve got plenty of ice,” Cassian chimed in.

He rushed past all of them and down the sidewalk for a few steps before he finally let go of his face. His nose stung like hell between his two numbing cheeks, but it still wasn’t bleeding.

 “Ben, wait!” Rey called out.

He pivoted to her before he could even think to stop himself. She jogged up with coffee cup in hand and held it out when she caught up with him.

“You left this behind,” she panted, flying hairs clinging to her cheeks. “Cassian called it a five dollar surprise?”

“Thank you,” he said and held the cup close to his chest.

“I’m sorry again.”

“It’s fine, Rey.”

“Are you sure? Because your face is pretty red.”

“I’m just embarrassed,” he sighed.

“But I’m the one who hit you in the face.”

“I wanted to ask you out and I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” he repeated, gripping his cup so tightly that the plastic lid popped off. “I said that out loud.”

“You did,” she chuckled, her hands pressed together, the pair of index fingers resting on her lips and and her thumbs hooked under her chin.

He raked the new layer of sweat off his hair with his fingers. Neither of them spoke for moment, their stifled giggles and anxious half-sighs filling in all the necessary details.

“I’m free after six today,” Rey said as she folded her hands and plopped them over her stomach. “Can we…visit your garden again?”

“Anything you want,” he said breathlessly, “Can you be at the restaurant at seven? I can arrange for transportation, if you need it.”

“No, no, I’ll drive, thank you,” she said, half turned away but still smiling. “So, I’ll meet you at seven then.”

“Right. Seven. See you there.”

She waved good bye before strutting back towards the coffee house. Ben pounded the pavement on his way to the restaurant, cold expresso licking at his hand as he called Hux.

His general manager barely got a syllable in when Ben ordered, “Don’t open the restaurant. Have everyone clean up prep and then send everyone home. Tell them they’ll be compensated for their missed time, and they’ll be paid double time.”

“Did someone hit you over the head?” Hux eventually sputtered out.

“Yes. I’ll explain when I get there. Just shut things down now.”

He hung up and shoved the phone back in his pocket, his mind hot and cramped from expanding with a hundred thousand details he had to plan for tonight. It was only ten thirty-four in the morning, meaning he had only seven hours and twenty-six minutes to pull off a miracle.


	5. Dessert

It was five after seven and she still wasn’t here. He paced about the tables with his hands behind his back to resist touching the glossy finish of the freshly polished tables. A song from Ryo Fukui’s _Scenery_ played overhead, each piano note of the song playful and light, even in short, fast bursts. It distracted him from his own erratic pulse.

Time paused for the shy knock at the door.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be late,” she said when he opened the door, then gestured at the empty parking lot. “You closed the restaurant?”

“Ah, yes. Please, come in.”

She stepped inside, the silky edges of her knee-length, forest green dress brushing against his black pant legs. He closed the door and followed her to the middle of the room. She looked up at the glistening hanging glass terrariums, her French braid curving along the back of her neck.

“It’s usually pretty busy on Saturdays and the cooks would have been constantly going in and out of the garden.”

“I’m sorry I put you through all this trouble.”

“No, no, no. It wasn’t any trouble at all. Everyone was pretty happy to have Saturday off. Compensated, of course.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Rey teased the knot of fabric at the base of her throat. She glanced at him and flashed a smile before focusing on the kitchen door.

“So, the garden. Yes, let’s go up to the garden.”

She silently followed him as he led her through the kitchen and up the steps, but let out a soft “ooh!” when they entered the garden. Thankfully the golden fairy lights that he made Hux and Phasma weave into the trellises glowed softly in the night. They strolled down the row of squash and beans, Rey brushing a little light or the curlicue of a vine with her fingertips. At the end of the row he presented their table, already set with their dinners covered with staineless steel cloches. She let him help her to her seat. He whipped off both cloches at the same time, revealing a small, roasted artichoke perched on a nest of lemon butter pasta.

“Made it yourself?” she teased.

“Of course. Toast?” he said as he poured the chardonnay.

“To…having to start from somewhere?”

They clinked their glasses and drank to that. Throughout dinner he asked her little things about her like work and what she usually did after work, which was either watching T.V. or writing the blog or reading other food blogs.

“The most exciting thing about me are the customers and the cars I have to deal with at work. Do you know much about cars?”

He did, in fact, and he learned a lot about it from helping Han fix up his car for years. She knew more about the newest car models from watching the show _Top Gear_ , and insisted he watch it whenever he had the time (which he rarely did, but he would make time for it now).

“Do you have a garden?” he asked.

“I’ve managed to keep a donkey tail alive for the last couple of years. I think my apartment gets too much sun because everything else just shrivels up and dies.”

“Maybe I can help with that.”

Her smile was lopsided as she dragged her fork across her plate.

“Yeah, maybe.”

His eyes followed the path of the fork scraping across the hardening remnants of lemon butter sauce. Ben sipped the last of his wine, but refused to pour himself anymore.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

She let go of her fork and hid both hands in her lap.

“Before I came, I…well, I posted the review. Did you read it?”

She looked at him now with her brow bent over her dark brown eyes. He tasted something sour in his mouth, but he swallowed it and felt it shiver down his throat.

“No.”

“I can bring it up on my phone if…”

“I don’t need to read it, Rey,” he implored.

She turned away from him to drain her glass.

“It’s what brought us together, isn’t it?”

“At first, but it’s not why we’re here now. I wouldn’t have asked you to come here if I didn’t like you.”

“You barely know me.”

“And you barely know me, and I was an asshole to you, but you came.”

“Because I wanted to get to know you better since the tasting dinner.”

“I only learned a little bit about you that night, but I liked…being around you. That’s why I invited you here.”

His hand stretch out halfway across the table, his finger tips dangerously close to her plate. Her eyes bore into his, and he wished he could just tear open his skull and show her that he was telling her the truth and how he regretted being so hung up over a stupid review.

“God, I’m stupid,” Rey huffed.

“No, you’re not.”

“You’re sweet, but I am. I was excited when you asked me out, but as the day went on I became a bundle of nerves and assumed the worst of you.”

“I’ve earned that assumption.”

“I’m sorry anyway,” she murmured, placing her hand over his.

“Don’t be. I need to be better.”

He turned his palm and her fingers slipped into it perfectly. His fingers curled around her thin wrist. Somehow his forehead bumped onto hers, which made her giggle and apologize about the door again before she kissed the edge of his chin.

"Shit, I missed," she said.

This sent them both into a fit of laughter that made Rey bend over and clutch his shoulder with her free hand while Ben wrapped his around her sturdy bicep. With the guidance of the light of the crescent moon and the fairy lights, Ben kissed her. They barely broke away for a breath before she nudged her lips against his again, her fingers tracing up his neck and tangling his hair.

When they broke again, he grazed past her cheek and whispered in her ear, “There’s apple pie being kept warm in the oven and the ice cream was churned this morning.”

“Perfect."

They abandoned the rooftop garden with their dinner half-finished, hardly able to wait for dessert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT IS FINISHED
> 
> Thank you everyone for your kudos and comments! This has been super fun to write, and super educational for me as well. 
> 
> The song that is playing by Ryo Fukui is called "I want to talk about you," which sort of served as the theme for this story in a way. Take a listen to the whole album! I listened to it many times while writing this lol.
> 
> Next Reylo fic will be a Halloween fic, which will be full of hocus pocus, I promise you.
> 
> ~~  
> NEW: BEAUTIFUL FANART BY @somaybelikeno on tumblr! Underrated-reylo commissioned it AND IT HAS MADE ME SO HAPPY AND PERFECTLY CAPS THIS STORY! THANK YOU AGAIN!


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